


In Sickness

by TadpoleDude



Category: Dishonored
Genre: Angst, Description of blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, description of illness, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TadpoleDude/pseuds/TadpoleDude
Summary: Corvo reflects on his long journey at Dunwall Tower, finding the only thing that remained the same, his lifelong friend, Geoff Curnow. After the plague’s end, the Captain is still missing, and Corvo sets out to find the only friend he has left.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Geoff Curnow, Corvo Attano/Jessamine Kaldwin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	In Sickness

_“Campbell is going to poison my uncle. Do you think you could protect him? You used to do that, right? Before you had your current profession. Before you became an assassin.”_

The first day Corvo arrived in Dunwall, he was hungover from drinking the trip away in celebration, his ego lifted by Theodanis’ blessings. But he was young, barely seventeen, and it had been far from his first time throwing up his guts over the side of a ship. So, despite the heaviness in his body and the headache, he stood up straight, excited for what Dunwall had in store for him. He was ready to leave his hardships behind him, and it felt so wonderful to be finally looking to the future. No more taking it day-by-day. No more sacrificing pleasures for basic needs. He was working at Dunwall Tower now, and he had no more worries.

It was a nice couple of minutes, Corvo supposed.

Stepping onto the cobblestone streets and following his escort to Dunwall Tower, Corvo noticed the Gristolian capital looked exactly how he envisioned. Tall buildings, pale people in fancy clothes, and an overcasting gray sky. Just like in the landscape paintings, including the whiskey advertisements on the sides of buildings. Corvo couldn’t help but smile as he took it all in. This was his home now, he decided, he’ll be damned if he ever finds himself homesick for Karnaca. It would only get better. After all, he was on his way to meet the Emperor of the Isles.

But he didn’t meet Euhorn Kaldwin that day. Instead, he met the leader of his squad, Captain Lee Smith. Offering a kind bow, and a polite smile, Corvo greeted his new captain in his best Gristolian, “I am Corvo Attano, the crowned champion of the Serkonan Blade Verbena. I am a gift from Duke Theodanis Abele for his Imperial Majesty, Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin.”

Looking back, every detail about Smith was amusing to him. He was a small man, and to this day, Corvo had never seen anyone so naturally pale. His nose and cheeks were bright red from the little sunlight Dunwall received, and he had the most ridiculous mustache, waxed to a bright shine and curly. Though, in his defense, it was the style at the time. Smith scrunched up his bulbous nose, and narrowed his eyes that were too big for his face, “Oh, please, you’re a child.” He scoffed.

Leaning himself out of his bow, Covo was stunned. He was aware of how young he was, the youngest to win the Blade Verbena in history, but that was supposed to be impressive. He was a prodigy. Still a little confused by the captain’s sharp tone, Corvo tried to explain a little, “If you’re unaware of what the Blade-”

“I don’t care how things go about in Serkonos, _Anttono_ ,” Smith interrupted, mispronouncing his name, “But here in Gristol, lower guards only speak when asked to by their captains. And when you do speak to me, it will be in perfect Gristolian. If Dunwall is to be your home, you will speak without that Serkonan _twang_ mucking up your speech.”

Corvo felt himself clench his jaw at the sheer disrespect, until, of course, he glanced down to see Smith leaning on the balls of his feet in an effort to make himself taller. Resisting a cocky smirk, Corvo straightened his posture and looked down his nose at the captain, “To be honest, Captain, I do like the idea of not talking to you.”

Smith huffed at that, “Just as rude as your stereotypes, I see. If you want to get anywhere in life, _Anttono,_ I would change that attitude.”

Corvo wanted so desperately to tell this small man how much of a hypocrite he was, to yell at him, and demand to say his name correctly, but he held his tongue. There was no way he was getting himself sent back to low-class Karnaca. He meant to leave everything behind, and there was nothing that could change his mind. Everyone gets their fair share of asshole bosses in their life, Corvo told himself, it’s not the end of the world. Dunwall has more to offer than that.

Euhorn Kaldwin, without even meeting him, would hand his squad the graveyard shift on the exterior of the Tower’s grounds, and Corvo hated every second of it. He barely saw the sun, and for the life of him, his body clock never got used to working overnight. Between Smith’s racist ox-shit and the shift, Corvo sobered a little, realizing suddenly it wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. His hopes weren’t down, though. This was the City Watch, and he knew he would work his way up. All it would take was some time and effort, he was sure of it.

Two weeks after his arrival, Corvo received a gut punch. It came in the form of a letter from Karnaca, addressed to him. He tore it open, knowing exactly who had wrote him, and he couldn’t wait to tell his mother what Dunwall was like, and all the little differences and details about Gristol and their culture, because in honesty, it was intriguing. 

To his horror, the letter wasn’t from his mother, but from his family’s physician. His mother had died of a broken heart, not even lasting a couple of weeks after he left.

He sat there, wide-eyed, as he rubbed his thumbs on the paper, slowly processing it. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to write to her, and she would write back, telling him she was proud. He’d sugar coat his experiences a little, for her sake, and tell her that he missed her, because he already had after a couple days at sea. He’d save money and move her here so she could live in Dunwall with him, so she could escape her woes as well.

But she could never escape those woes, could she? For as long as Corvo could remember, his mother dealt with a great sadness. It would keep her in bed, unable to eat for too long, and Corvo didn’t know how to help her. Somewhere along the line, whenever her mind fell ill, he would sit on the bed with her, doing his schoolwork. He didn’t know what to do, but he didn’t want her to be alone.

He got on The Duke’s grand ship in the spirit of leaving everything behind. And he did, including his own mother. Abandoned by her husband and two children in one way or another, she withered away. Being sent to Dunwall was supposed to be the start of his life, yet, his boss was racist, his other squad members didn’t give a damn, and The Emperor himself gave him the night shift so the nobles wouldn’t see his Serkonan face. And as if it couldn’t get worse, his mother died of an illness he knew she had, just for him to be treated like shit in a city he left her for. There was _nothing_ here in Dunwall for him, and now there was _nothing_ in Karnaca to go back to.

The world had nothing to offer him.

Within days, Corvo began to slip into his own depression, following his mother’s habits without him even realizing it. Getting through the day was fine at first, but he slowly cut more and more out of his routined life just to get back to his cot in the barracks sooner. He skipped out on the extra stuff, training practice, drills, and meals, and settled for just doing his too-quiet shift in the dead of night.

He barely noticed a new face in his squad, Corporal Geoff Curnow. But, it wouldn’t take long, as outgoing as the young man seemed. Curnow was his age, Corvo gathered, and had enlisted in The Watch as soon as he turned sixteen. Just over a year later, he was promoted for his bravery after a rather gruesome battle with The Bottle Street Boys in the Distillery District. Despite recently losing a large number of his old squad, Curnow was a cheerful fellow.

About a week passed until word of who Corvo was reached the Corporal, and Corvo had never seen someone so excited to meet him. Curnow came over at the end of their shift as dawn broke over the horizon, “Attano? May I ask you something? I heard a rumor.”

Corvo blinked in surprise at him. Curnow had spoken to him in rather clear Serkonan, with only a light Gristolian accent. He couldn’t help but be touched by the effort, though it was a little unnecessary. Corvo nodded, “Anything, Corporal.”

Curnow’s eyes lit up a bit as he smiled, “You won the Blade Verbena, right? You’re the one The Duke sent over?”

Total, it had been about two months since he arrived, and needless to say, the pride from it all had left him, so Corvo just shrugged, “Yes, sir.”

And just like that, he was in the sparring area of the training shack, being challenged to a sword duel. All Corvo truly wanted was to go back to his cot again, but he didn’t have the heart to turn the only person to engage with him down. He supposed it wouldn’t take long.

And by the Void, he had forgotten what sword fighting was like. With a year in the Grand Guard, and being sent off to Dunwall to work in The City Watch, he hadn’t had the time to spar just for kicks in far too long. He enjoyed the exercise, and above all the adrenaline. But in the end, he was right, Curnow lost rather quickly.

Geoff wasn’t angry or embarrassed, though, like any of the other men would be. He just laughed and said, “I didn’t expect to beat you! Damn, you’re a whirlwind!” Corvo only thanked the Corporal kindly.

They changed into their off-duty clothes while at the shack, and Corvo began to make his way to the barracks. Geoff caught up with him quickly, asking him questions, “So, what did you do to make the Emperor angry enough to give you this shift?”

It was asked playfully, but Corvo barely gave him a glance as he answered in full honesty, “I wasn’t born in Gristol.”

Geoff was silent for a moment, his expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry Corvo. Y’know, my father had to take my mother’s name for that reason.”

Corvo slowed his pace as Geoff started the story, letting himself engage with the other man, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone taking their wife’s name.”

Geoff nodded, still serious, “Yeah, I have a lot of Serkonan blood on my dad’s side, and Morleyan on my mom’s. I’m actually the first generation on both sides born in Gristol.” He added, before getting back to his point, “But still, Morleyan surnames are very similar to Gristolian ones, or at least, sometimes. And even the more outlandish ones are more respected than Serkonan heritage.”

Looking at him, Corvo realized that Geoff did certainly look Morleyan, with his narrow face, pale skin, blue eyes, and light brown hair. But, in contrast, he was tall and broad like a Serkonan would expect to look. Corvo silently wondered if Geoff tanned easier too, or if he would burn in the sun.

Snapping himself out of the shallow thoughts, Corvo continued the conversation, “So that’s how you know how to speak Serkonan so well.”

Geoff laughed, “Like my sword skills, it’s terrible.”

“It was an unfair match,” He teased, “But, no, you fight well, and your accent isn’t even noticeable.” 

Geoff waved a hand in dismissal, “Ah, you’re just saying that. But, I will say though, I cook like a true Serkonan.”

Corvo gave a playful eye roll, “I don’t know, Geoff, I just ate real Serkonan food, like, literally a couple of months ago.”

Of course Geoff wanted to prove himself. Cooking and food was important in his, or their, culture. Families would come home from school or work to cook dinner together, and being the closest friend Geoff had in his new squad, the man insisted that Corvo cook with him.

Geoff did know how to cook Serkonan food, and it was delicious. With that, things got better. Geoff came into his life and gave him a new routine. They would get up and practice drills with their squad, chat during their shift when Smith wasn’t looking, and go to the training shack. Corvo would help Geoff with his sword hand, and Geoff would help him with his pistol aim. At the end of the day, in the mid-morning, they’d cook and eat something before bed. Geoff was bright, kind, and full of life, and it seemed he had nothing but smiles and laughs to offer.

The loss of his mother still stung immensely, but he found himself mentioning it to his new found friend, and it felt good to be open for once. It felt good to belong, even if it was with one person. Geoff was understanding, giving him sympathies and advice when it came to loss, and simultaneously keeping him connected to his roots, instead of trying to forget them in the shame racism tried to teach them.

Though he wouldn’t call them his friends, Corvo eventually got more acquainted with the rest of his squad. Smith never changed, but Corvo wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer. Come to think of it, no one would have to, and the Captain only had himself to blame. Seems as though corruption ran deep, even in the old days.

Corvo didn’t know how long the conspirators had been planning, but the incident took place just over a year later. His squad’s schedule suddenly changed, making his hours much shorter. He would normally enjoy the extra time to himself, but he and the other members of his squad weren’t allowed outside the barracks, and there was no drill practice before his shift. He tried to arrange some food delivery through a couple of maids so he and Geoff could at least cook, but it was to no avail. A week in, and he was already sick of eating like a soldier on rations while being stationed at Dunwall Tower. Wanting fresh food, and not giving a damn about Smith’s inevitable lecture, Corvo gave into his restlessness, and decided to sneak out of the barracks and go to the Tower’s kitchen.

The first thing he noticed when he left the barracks was no one was around. He assumed when his hours got cut, the day shift’s got extended, yet the grounds of the Tower’s exterior were practically empty. He tried to go on his way, but curiosity and paranoia got the better of him. Turning around, he headed to the waterlock, knowing that there was maintenance there twenty-four-seven. Or at least, there should have been, but the place was abandoned. Strangely, though, the water was up, and there was one, small motorboat tied down. Corvo didn’t recognize it, nor was there a name painted on it.

He didn’t like this. There was a pit forming in his stomach, and a chilling feeling that something was very wrong. Where was everyone? Why was everything so unsupervised? This was Dunwall Tower. The Imperial Family lives here and no one is guarding the entrance to this place? Turning on his heels again, Corvo began to make his way back to the barracks in a quick stride. He’d get chewed out for leaving, but he had to tell Smith his concerns.

He stopped in his tracks when he finally saw someone else in the dawn’s sunlight. A man, Corvo concluded, hunched down by a brick wall, peeking over at the Tower’s doors. He was dressed in tight, dark clothing, with a cloth over his head to keep his hair out of his face. It only took a split moment for Corvo to realize what was happening.

With hopes he could command the other man’s surrender without violence, Corvo quickened his pace again, “Hey!” He hollered.

The man immediately bolted away, heading to the pavilion. There was a significant drop over the wall there, but if he made it without hurting himself, there was a staircase that led to the waterlock. Not letting him get that far, Corvo sprinted after him, “Intruder!” He roared and loud as he could, “Guards! Intruder!”

The man didn’t even make it to the pavilion before Corvo was close enough to tackle him down. Pushing himself up, Corvo pressed his knee between the intruder’s shoulder blades, but the man still struggled under him, kicking his legs and pushing on the ground in an effort to roll himself over. Though Corvo had the leverage, he was alone at the moment, and if the intruder did break free, he could get away, which Corvo wasn’t about to let happen. He drew his sword, and placed it against the other man’s throat, “Don’t move.”

The man complied immediately, and by that time, Corvo could hear footsteps behind him. Turning his head, he saw that Smith, Geoff, and the rest of his squad had come to back him up. With the rest of them there, getting the intruder up and in shackles was easy, and Smith escorted him to Coldridge Prison shortly thereafter.

Corvo got whoops, hollars, and pats on the back from Geoff and his colleagues, but he eventually had to report to Coldridge as well for the official report and records. The meeting was in the warden’s office, and was between himself, Smith, the warden, Euhorn’s bodyguard, and the Emperor himself. Corvo told his story, emphasizing how odd everything was the week before.

“It’s obvious that someone was paid off to adjust my squad’s schedule.” Smith said in an implying tone.

The Emperor frowned at him, “You suggest I mistrust Captain Turnbull?”

“Well, he _is_ my boss, sir!” Smith argued, “He is in charge of the where the squads are located on the grounds, and their hours. I was only doing what I was told! Of course you should-”

The warden interrupted him, “Let’s not act so rash, we have no evidence of Turnbull’s involvement. But, as said, he is in charge of the guard’s scheduling. I will summon him here, and question him.”

It was a fair midground, Corvo agreed silently, Turnbull had a loyal reputation, but they had to take their necessary precautions.

Obviously not taking Smith very seriously, The Emperor nodded, “That will do just fine for now. Send word when your questioning with Turnbull is done. I want updates on this as soon as possible.”

“Yes, your Grace.” The warden replied with a bow of his head.

“And _you_.” The Emperor addressed him, his tone sounding bothered, “The Empress, however, is rather spooked by this whole thing. She wanted whoever was responsible for apprehending the suspect to work inside the walls of the Tower during the day. With Turnbull in questioning, I don’t know where your post will be, or what hours yet. Turnbull will speak to you-”

“Or his replacement.” Smith interrupted,

The Emperor shifted his eyes over, and Corvo had to stifle a laugh at how embarrassed Smith looked, “If you want to keep your job, Captain, I won’t _ever_ hear your voice again.” 

Without another word, Smith looked down to his lap in surrender. And at that, Corvo was disappointed. He so wished Smith had argued further and got himself fired.

The Emperor picked up his sentence, “Captain Turnbull will speak to you about your new position after this all has blown over. Any questions, Attano?”

Corvo shook his head, “No questions, your Highness. I am excited to start my new position, but I will wait patiently. I know how serious this is, you need time to be thorough.”

The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment, though he didn’t seem happy, “You and Smith are dismissed for now.” He turned his head to the warden, “Captain Ainsley, I’ll leave you to your work.”

“Thank you, your Majesty.” Corvo and the warden said in unison, though, Captain Smith only bowed.

Corvo left for the barracks, and was greeted by the sound of fresh food sizzling on the stove in the kitchen area. “You started cooking without me?” Corvo noted when he saw Geoff at the stove, tending to a pot.

Geoff glanced over his shoulder, gesturing at the table in the corner, “Morleyan comfort food to settle some nerves. A nice stew with potatoes and beef. Sit.”

Corvo did what he was told, but found himself pouting a little, “I’m not nervous. It was just a thief.”

“Who said that?” Geoff asked rhetorically, “We don’t know what he was here for yet.”

Corvo shrugged, “If they did know, they didn’t tell me. Whatever it was, it was enough for a promotion, at least.”

His friend turned around, one hand holding the pot of food, and the other holding a small stack of bowls and spoons. He set it all down on the table and plopped down in the chair across from Corvo. His face lit up, “You got promoted? Congrats, Corvo! What were you promoted to?”

Corvo began serving himself, “I don’t think I’m promoted to a new rank. It’s just a better shift. I won’t know the details for a couple of days, seems like, but it will be a day shift inside the Tower.”

Geoff served himself too after Corvo was done, stirring the stew in his bowl a little afterward, “Well, count me jealous. What I’d do for a day shift out of the rain, or to never see Captain again.”

“Well, maybe, just maybe, catch the thief before I do.”

Geoff gave a hearty laugh at that, but winded down quickly. He took a bite of his meal, seemingly in thought for a moment, “I’m going to miss having you around, though.” He said sadly after he finished.

Corvo nodded, poking a little at his meal without really noticing, “Yeah, I’ll miss seeing you all the time, too.” He took a bite out of his stew, the seasoning a bit mild, but the beef was still tender, and the vegetables gave it a bit of sweetness. “Being on opposite sides of the clock will be hard to work around.” He began after swallowing, “But, we can still cook everyday. You can have dinner while I have my breakfast.”

Geoff brightened again, “That would be great. But, you’d probably have to get up a little early.”

Corvo waved at him in dismissal, “Wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe you could teach me some Morleyan dishes.”

“All depends on the situation,” Geoff started after finishing another bite, “Serkonan food is light with complicated recipes and spices, but Morleyan food is heavy and warm with subtle flavors.” He shrugged, “Today, you needed something warm to fill you up so you can sleep after the eventful day.”

Corvo raised an eyebrow, “And for a boring day, Serkonan food?”

Geoff rolled his eyes, “Congratulations, Corvo, you used the process of elimination. I knew you were too smart for me.”

Corvo kicked him playfully under the table, making the other man guffaw with more laughter. He knew he wasn’t going to have the time to see Geoff as often as they planned, so Corvo was going to try to enjoy his last couple of days here, staying at his only friend’s side. They poked fun, and spared, and cooked for almost another week until Turnbull gave him his new post.

Surprisingly, he was able to cook and have that breakfast/dinner with him almost everyday. Geoff was obviously tired from the long night, but as usual, it didn’t dent the man’s optimism, and though Corvo was still groggy from his sleep, starting the day with his best friend always set his mood right. Their routine was different now, but it worked out pleasantly, and Corvo was almost used to it when developments regarding the thief came up.

First, the rumor that Captain Smith was discharged spread like wildfire. _Good riddance,_ Corvo thought immediately. But, the rumor was wrong, as he learned while overhearing Captain Turnbull speak to a General of The City Watch. Smith wasn’t fired, he was arrested for treason. It was reported that Corporal Geoff Curnow, on a hunch, began snooping through Smith’s desk, and found coded messages, and gave them to Hiram Burrows, the Royal Spymaster. According to The Spymaster’s report, the code was cracked easily, and the evidence suggests, very strongly, that the thief was actually an assassin who bribed Smith into shifting his schedule under Tunrbull’s nose.

Corvo practically sprinted to the Tower’s kitchen for food, and to the barracks to get Geoff’s angle on the situation, as well as tell him how proud he was. He found Geoff at the table, practically staring at the wall. “Geoff?” Corvo asked as he walked in, setting the basket of food on the table.

Geoff blinked at him, looking numb, “Oh, hey, Corvo. How was your night? Did you sleep well?”

Corvo laughed, “How am I?” He asked rhetorically, throwing his arms up as his composure broke into excitement, “Geoff I heard what you did! You’re a genius!”

“Thanks, but I think I would describe it as…” Geoff stood from his chair, rubbing his temples as he searched for the word, “Odd.” Before Corvo could anwer, he eyed the basket, “What food were you planning?”

“That Morleyan stew,” Corvo said simply, “It was a stressful day for you.”

Geoff chuckled warmly, his blue gaze turning nostalgic, “Thanks, friend. It sounds nice.”

As strange as it sounded, Geoff was thoughtful, almost pensive. “What’s on your mind?” Corvo asked, his tone serious.

His friend hesitated as he sat back down in his chair, “I’ve been promoted to the squad’s Captain.”

Normally, Corvo would congratulate him, but Geoff’s tone was too numb and uncertain, so he settled for reassurance, “I know that’s a big responsibility for someone our age, but you’ll do great.”

The new Captain’s expression shifted, closing his eyes, “The assassin and Smith are both in line for execution.” He finally said mournfully, “I just got two people killed, and got promoted for it.”

“Did Smith tell you that as they dragged him away?” Corvo assumed, “Don’t believe his ox-shit! They both deserve what they get.” He finished darkly.

“Believe it or not, Corvo, but not everyone agrees with Capital Punishment.” Geoff snapped at him, “I joined The Watch to protect civilians from gangs, not to kill others, especially other guards.”

Corvo dropped his defensive tone, trying again to be comforting, “I know, I’m sorry. But, you did the right thing, Geoff. You were literally protecting The Imperial Family with your actions, and for that, you deserve your promotion. What the prisons and Emperor do to the prisoners is out of your control.”

Geoff made a noise of frustration as he put his face in his hands. He sat there like that for a few quiet moments until he gave a long sigh, and lifted his head, “You’re always right, but the lack of control is what’s killing me.

With the Captain’s voice sounding relieved, Corvo dared to tease, “Well, maybe, just maybe, you should become the Emperor.”

Geoff snorted, standing back up and going through the food basket, “Well, maybe, just maybe, you can blow off.”

Corvo considered his help a success, because after that Geoff was back to his normal self, for the most part. The thoughts he expressed seemed to still burden him sometimes, especially on the date of the assassin’s and Smith’s execution. It wasn’t until that day when Geoff’s words really hit him oddly, and Corvo found himself almost feeling sad for his previous boss. Sure, he was a racist ass, but Corvo didn’t wish death on him, or anyone, come to think of it.

The oddness of the situation regarding both of their promotions dissipated after a month or so, for they had fallen back into their routine. Geoff had some extra work to do, but they still had more than enough time to have their meal together each day.

Then the Imperial Family drama kicked in.

He was promoted. To Lord Protector. By the heiress, Jessamine Kaldwin.

“I am honored, of course,” He had politely accepted the promotion in front of Her Grace, but he began to express his confusion to his Captain, “I just don’t know where this came from. I mean, she’s waved at me, like, once.”

Captain Turnbull looked up from his paperwork and leaned back in his office chair, “Listen, between you and me, Lady Jessamine doesn’t get along with her parents. Especially her father.”

Corvo tilted his head a bit, “What does that have to do with me?”

Turnbull hesitated, as if addressing the matter carefully, “His Majesty has expressed, on a few occasions, some rather… Negative views regarding Serkonan immigrants. Viewpoints that I do not share. I have been in charge of other ranks for some time, and in my experience, Serkonans are nothing short of hardworking and loyal,” He disclaimed awkwardly before getting back to the topic, “But Lady Jessamine is in that teenage phase where she just wants to spite her father for attention.”

“How petty.” Corvo commented, “You’d think the Royal Family would have bigger problems?”

Turnbull scoffed, going back to his work, “You better get used to that, you’ll be around nobles more often than not. Better you than me. Is there anything else you need from me, sir?”

“Sir? What am I? Your boss?” He mocked.

But Turnbull didn’t laugh, instead, he looked him in the eye, “Yes, Lord Protector, you are. You are a part of The Imperial Palace City Watch,” He began to explain, his tone formal, “There are the lower guards that answer to the captain of their squad, their captain answers to me, who organizes them. For the most part, I am my own boss, but the Royal Protractors technically are over me, and can adjust my work as they see fit.”

Taking in the information, Corvo questioned, “So, who’s over me?”

“The Emperor’s bodyguards.”

There was a short silence as Corvo waited for the Captain to continue, but when he didn’t, Corvo just shrugged, “Okay, thank you, and no, I don’t need anything else from you, to answer your question.”

Turnbull nodded, “Let me know if something comes up, good day.”

“Actually,” Corvo began, retracting his last statement on impulse, “I do have one adjustment.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I would like Captain Geoff Curnow to be working inside the Tower during the day.” He said in his best professional tone, trying not to sound like some kid that wanted to be paired up with his best friend for a school project.

“A good choice, Lord Protector,” Turnbull replied honestly, “Despite your ages, both of you have a lot of potential. Is there anywhere specific inside the Tower?”

Corvo shook his head, “No, try to find a place for him, let me know when you do for approval. I’m sure it’ll be fine, your work is always so thorough.”

Turnbull began to write on some paper, “I’ll note it, then. Anything else?”

“No, I’ll leave you to your work, Captain.” He said.

“Good day.” Turnbull repeated as Corvo left.

Corvo wondered what exactly his new job would entail, and how long he would have said job. By law, every member for the Imperial Family had the complete freedom to choose whoever they wanted as their Lord Protector, but was that something that the Emperor himself could override? There was only one way to find out. 

He had his meal with Geoff at dawn as usual, and they both spoke optimiscially about the promotion. How wrong they were to do such a thing.

Because Jessamine Kaldwin was a brat. Barely thirteen, she basically used him as a personal servant, and at any chance that she could. Corvo knew exactly what she was doing, though, she wasn’t as sly as she thought she was. She was flaunting him around to draw attention to him, just to try to get her father to say something. And Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin certainly had some terrible things to say, to both him and Jessamine.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Corvo exaggerated as he picked at a pepper slice on his plate.

Geoff swallowed a mouthful of food, “Nip it at the bud.” He advised, preparing another bite on his fork, “The next time The Emperor hurts her feelings, comfort her and tell her not to antagonize him just for the fun of it.”

And by the Void, Corvo didn’t have to wait long for that to happen. Two days later, Lady Jessamine ended up running to her room, in tears. He had given her some space, but after about fifteen minutes or so, he knocked on her door.

“What?” Her high-pitched voice came, obviously bothered.

“It’s Attano.” Corvo began, “I need to speak with you.”

He could hear her sigh through the door, “Come in, then.”

Corvo entered her room, which was neat and lit up with sunlight. He found her sitting on her bed, her face still red from crying, “I know it’s not lady-like to not stand and greet you, but I don’t care right now.”

“That’s okay,” He replied casually, sitting on the edge of her bed, “This isn’t really official business anyway. I just wanted to ask you something. Why did you pick me for your Lord Protector?”

She gave a sound of frustration, “Because you were a gift from Serkonos, and crowned the best sword fighter in the world, but my father was doing the bare minimum to keep you here because he hates Serkonans.”

“A couple of problems with that,” Corvo began in a civil tone, “First off, you shouldn’t do something just because you know it’ll make your father angry.”

“But he-”

Daring, Corvo interrupted her, “I’m not saying to get along with him, or let him step on you. I’m just saying, don’t go looking for fights.”

Lady Jessamine rolled her eyes, “Ugh, you sound like my mom.”

“Regardless of that,” He continued, “Do you realize how terrible _you’re_ treating me?”

In an instant, she gave that entitled look all nobles had, “What are you talking about? I gave you the best position I could!”

“Which is what?” He asked sarcastically, “A pawn in your poor father-daughter relationship? I’m so honored.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All you do is use me.” Corvo explained as he began to lose his composure a little, “Whether it’s treating me, your Lord Protector who is a member of The City Watch, as a kitchen maid, or in an argument with The Emperor, you use me.”

Jessamine looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. At first, Corvo thought she was disengaging with him, simply not caring, but he could see her face twisted in thought and regret, so he continued, “Using others like that is a quick way to lose their trust. You need a different outlet. A hobby, or a friend, or _something_.”

“Most of my time is all lessons now that I’m older, I don’t have time for hobbies,” She began to explain, sadness taking her tone, “And I did have a friend, but Father fired her mom, and I haven’t seen her since.”

That was probably the root of her anger, Corvo knew, but he kept that to himself. It was strange to notice how other people reacted to loss. Instead of growing depressed like Corvo had, Lady Jessamine became bitter and angry.

But there was something he could pay forward, wasn’t there? In his low state, Geoff had reached his hand out to him, and Corvo grabbed it on nothing but a whim. Yet, here he was, looking forward to getting up every morning and having breakfast with him, and his day was always a little brighter than the last because of it.

With Geoff on his mind again, Corvo felt a warm smile on his lips as he comforted her, “Well, Lady Jessamine, I can’t imagine how hard it is to make friends here while isolated in the Tower, but I know you’re a sweet girl.”

“But you just told me I’ve been treating you like dirt.” She pointed out, “And I am truly sorry about that. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

Corvo decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, “I forgive you, Heiress. Considering how nice you are to the rest of the staff, treating me like that isn’t like you at all, is it?”

She shook her head, “No, Corvo. I won’t treat you like that again, and I promise to keep you out of arguments with my father.”

He nodded in approval, “Thank you for the reassurance, Heiress.”

Lady Jessamine smiled, “Maybe if this goes well, we could be friends.”

She said it in a half-joking tone, but Corvo replied in honesty, “Like I said, you’re a sweet girl, chances are, probably so.”

He chatted with her for a while longer, and found himself talking about Geoff. Corvo wasn’t a very talkative person, but come to think of it, he did mention Geoff a lot to others, and his thoughts never really were far away from the Captain. An odd thing to notice, though Corvo didn’t look into it too much. Geoff was his only friend at the time, it wasn’t like he had anyone else to think about anyway.

But, as their schedules aligned, and they saw each other more, Corvo found himself in a pattern he’d had since he was a young adolescent. It had happened to a couple of friends of his in the past, but something _clicked_. A door was unlocked, and Corvo was admiring Geoff. His mannerisms, his eyes, the way his shoulders and hips sat, and all those little details.

Corvo always looked forward to breakfast and dinner with his friend, but now he was nervous too, and he knew Geoff had picked up on some of it, because they were cooking a lot of Morleyan food recently. Their usual spot to eat was on one of the balconies near Geoff’s quarters, which had an overhead light just bright enough to see if they were eating too late, but most of the time, the sun was slipping under the horizon.

The sun had lit up Geoff’s hair nicely, Corvo noticed one day, there was a little tint of red he hadn’t noticed before.

“You seem anxious lately.” The Captain’s tone was casual, but Corvo could see the concern he was trying to hide in his eyes.

Snapped out of his thoughts, Corvo shrugged, “I think that’s just my natural state.”

Geoff gave a snort that was meant to be a laugh, pushing his empty plate aside and wiping his face with a napkin. He was quiet for a moment, seemingly letting Corvo finish his meal, but broke the silence cautiously, “Is the Heiress being sour again?”

Corvo felt his stomach flip as his friend pried a little, “No, she’s been nice to me.”

Geoff hesitated for another moment, “Have your thoughts been on your mother recently?”

“I’m fine, Geoff.”

Corvo went back to his food, hoping that would be the end of it. When the quiet got too awkward, he dared to look up from his plate, and found Geoff staring at him expectantly, “I can sit here all night.”

Corvo sighed, losing the fight. He took a moment to gather his courage as he picked at the wooden table. It was risky, admitting this, he could lose his spot in The City Watch for it. A law that wouldn’t change for a couple more years. But, he knew he could trust Geoff. As much as a straight arrow as he was, he wouldn’t get Corvo fired for something like this. “To be honest,” Corvo began quietly so no one would overhear, “I’ve been admiring you.”

Geoff seemed thrown, but leaned in a bit, his tone the same level, “What do you mean?”

Corvo broke eye contact as embarrassment set in, “For the last couple of weeks, I think I’ve developed a bit of a crush.” He meant to clarify, but his statement came out more like a question.

A thoughtful expression came across the Captain’s face, “Oh,” He started flatly, “Well, that’s flattering, Corvo, but that’s not something I should pursue. It’s something I can’t risk again.”

As usual, Geoff wasn’t angry or disgusted, and Corvo mentally kicked himself for fearing that his friend would be anything but accepting. But, apparently, _that_ kind of relationship wouldn’t have been new to Geoff, and Corvo had to say he didn’t expect that, but wasn’t too surprised by it. Relieved that Geoff was understanding, but disappointed at being turned down, Corvo nodded, “You don’t want to lose your place here, I get that. Were you almost caught before?”

Geoff tensed a bit, a wave of pain twitching on his face before he covered it up, repressing himself as he often did whenever stressful topics came up. He paused, seemingly considering if he should answer the question honestly, “I was, actually. Blackmailed for it too.” 

“That’s terrible!” Corvo said defensively, “You’re not still paying him off, are you?”

“No.”

“How’d you get out of it?”

Geoff looked down at the table, his eyes sad and expression guilty. He shook his head, “No. You’d hate me.”

“Geoff, recent feelings aside, I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make me hate you.” He assured.

The Captain closed his eyes with a tight expression, physically reframing himself from giving in. Whatever battle he was warring with himself, he lost. Geoff lifted his gaze, “Even friendly fire?”

Corvo felt himself stiffen, not expecting that, “What?”

Corvo had ripped the cork off, and Geoff’s story came flooding out, “He told me he saw me kissing one of the soldiers we shared an outpost with, and making the payments wasn’t an issue, at first. But, then my partner got relocated to northern Gristol and cut ties, and the person who caught me didn’t stop.” He explained, his tone frantic, “He raised his price, and I barely had enough to feed myself. And then, my brother-in-law died, leaving my sister as a single mother to my niece, and they couldn’t make their rental payments, but _I_ was in The City Watch, and didn’t have a place for them to go, so I knew I needed my full paycheck back to help them…”

Geoff put his head in his hands, taking in long breaths to calm himself, his voice came more collected, “We were to attack The Bottle Street gang, and no one else was around. Considering the rest of my squad, his casualty wouldn’t be looked into. I shot him. Point blank.”

Corvo waited to make sure he was finished, not wanting to interrupt him, “You were protecting yourself and your family-”

Geoff looked appalled, “You can’t _seriously_ condone what I did.”

“What was the way out, then?” Corvo asked rhetorically.

Geoff, though, had an answer for that, “Refuse to pay, get fired, get disowned by my parents, start off somewhere new, and pick myself up there. Y’know. Not commit homicide.”

Corvo ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to find the words, “You’re right. Doing that instead wouldn’t have been the end of the world, and I know you will never forgive yourself, but I don’t hate you, Geoff.”

“That’s your crush talking.” Geoff was trying to be playful again, trying desperately to close himself back into his repressive habits.

Corvo considered not letting him and pressing the matter more, but in honesty, he wasn’t sure how to comfort him other than just be there, and try to make it all a little easier like Geoff had done for him. So, letting him get his way, Corvo chuckled, “Eh, maybe.” He opened up his palm on the table, offering his hand, “But, if this goes wrong, maybe, just maybe, we can flee to Karnaca, and pick ourselves up there.”

Geoff hesitated, but he eventually smiled softly, sliding his hand into Corvo’s, “Well, maybe, just maybe, that sounds magnificent.”

Their time together was wonderful after that. As Captain, Geoff had his own quarters, so getting up and sneaking out of his room in the mornings was easy. Waking up next to Geoff was peaceful and pleasant, but the best times were after their shifts.They’d have dinner, smoke some cigars, and talk the night away while sipping on cheap Serkonan wine that tasted too much like nostalgia. They were in free fall for a while, but eventually settled into each other’s lives more comfortably as their relationship continued, allowing them to let their guards down and be more open.

Two anniversaries passed, and Corvo was the happiest he could ever remember being, but something came up to test their relationship. Geoff was being relocated to the eastern edge of The Distillery District, the other side of The Wrenhaven, and the entire city.

“I can talk to Turnbull.” Corvo assured, cutting up vegetables faster than he should be in his mild panic.

“Turnbull got his orders from General Tobias, Corvo, you’re not over a General of The City Watch.” Geoff replied.

Corvo nicked himself with the knife, “Fuck.” He whispered as he dropped the utensil on the floor.

Geoff gave an exasperated sigh, handing him a couple of napkins, “We’ll be fine.” He then rubbed his hand across Corvo’s shoulder blades, “Is it bad?”

“No.” Corvo said, wrapping his finger up, “Just barely scraped it.”

Geoff nodded and picked up the knife, “We’ll be fine.” He repeated.

“You’re right.” Corvo agreed, “Always are.”

Geoff promised to visit as often as he could during their last night together, but the Captain never ended up receiving a break long enough to travel to Dunwall Tower. On the positive end, Geoff mentioned to him in letters that he was able to see his sister and niece more often, and Corvo was happy for them.

They exchanged letters, as often as they could. As dedicated to staying in touch as they were, Corvo was receiving a letter once a week, and sending one back was his first priority. He missed having Geoff here, though, every morning and evening stung when he would realize he wasn’t cooking with his love that day, like he had been for a few years now. But he expressed it in his letters, and Geoff always replied with sweet messages, trying to comfort him. Corvo kept most of the letters, but they had to be careful not to out right state their relationship, so he had to tear some of them up.

Corvo awaited the day Geoff would tell him he would have time to stop by for a meal, but it never came. According to his messages, he was controlling a couple of squads in his area of the Distillery District, which was over triple the work he had at the Tower. The letters were exchanged for a year, and another after that, and Corvo was ashamed that it took that long for the reality of the situation to finally hit him like a brick.

He hadn’t seen him in over two years now, and Geoff’s success was only making him busier.

Corvo mourned their relationship, as if it had still been alive the whole time. He still had a fondness for the Captain, caring unconditionally because of their past relationships, both as friends and romantic partners, but the absence and distance made the more intimate sides fade away. Their new letters were repeats, and their plans were just wishful thinking, they were just going through the motions now.

Expressing that in a letter broke his heart. Because, if they saw each other, even once in a blue moon, he wouldn’t have to write it at all. It was terrible, and by the Void he felt guilty, but he made a point in his message that he had no means of cutting Geoff out of his life, but to go back to the friendship they had. On top of that, if the stars were kind to them, Geoff would be able to return to the Tower, and maybe, just maybe, they can pick up where they left off, if they were still both single.

Corvo knew he broke the Captain’s heart, because Geoff didn’t send anything back at first, but after two months, Corvo received his letter:

_My dear friend,_

_I apologize for not sending sooner, but to be honest, I didn’t know what to say. I’ve sat down and tried to write this many times, but they always came out jumbled. At first, I tried to reply immediately, and I wanted to reassure you that you were wrong, and this could all work out. But, one point you made did stand out. When is the next time we will see each other? This, what we’re doing now, could very well be for the rest of our lives. Writing letters, dodging the real words we want to say… I understand looking elsewhere. Looking for a real future with someone. I’m sorry that’s not something I can give you. But, if I do end up going back, I might take you up on that offer._

_Please, still write, regardless of all of this, I want to hear from you._

_-Geoff_

As much as the letter implied, Corvo should have torn it up, but he didn’t have the heart to, so he saved it with the others. Their next couple of letters were awkward, both unsure of what to say, but they slowly began having their usual deep conversations and teasing, and their friendship seemed normal again. They still did some wishful thinking, one of them always mentioned in high hopes that they’d be able to see each other on The Fugue Feast, but it never happened. As time went on, Corvo became convinced that he wasn’t going to see Geoff in person again, not until their retirement, at least.

Though Corvo was wrong, he didn’t see Geoff until he was thirty years old. By that time, Jessamine was the empress, and Emily was just learning to speak.

Geoff was apparently transferred back over, not that anyone told Corvo about this.

Corvo was in the gardens talking to Jessamine and replying to Emily’s babble when a Captain by the waterlock called his name. He looked to Jessamine for an approval to leave her side for a moment to deal with whatever issue the Captain needed help with. She waved him away, not taking her eyes off her daughter, so Corvo went over at a brisk pace.

It wasn’t until he hit the small bridge to realize who exactly the Captain was, “Geoff?”

“Hey, Corvo!” Geoff exclaimed, pulling him in a hug. Corvo almost didn’t recognize him, his voice was deeper, and his hair was darker with specks of gray in it.

Corvo hugged him back for a moment before breaking away, “By the Void, Geoff, what are you doing here?”

Geoff's eyes were just as bright as Corvo remembered, “I got transferred back over.”

“Transferred-” Corvo faltered, “You didn’t tell me?”

Geoff laughed, “I wanted to surprise you!”

_“Geoff-”_ He emphasized in his disbelief.

“You look great, by the way.” Geoff said, looking him up and down, “I like the long hair, it suits you.”

Corvo rolled his eyes, “Nobles hate it.”

Geoff looked at the sky in a fake thoughtful expression, “Let me guess, that’s the best part.”

Corvo chuckled, letting himself relax for once, “You know me too well.”

As excited as Corvo was, Geoff had to get settled in for his shift tomorrow, and Corvo had to go back to work. The rest of his day was a mix of babysitting Emily, attending meetings, and reminiscing about his friendship with Geoff to Jessamine. The day took forever to end, but eventually, Corvo made it down to the kitchen, not even surprised that Geoff was there to cook with him.

They ate quietly at first, but as they finished their meal, Geoff brought up the subject Corvo was dreading, “Hey, Corvo. I feel rude to ask this from the get-go, but… About picking up where we left off?”

Corvo set his plate aside, “I’m with someone.” He said, trying to sound casual.

Geoff gave an awkward nod, accepting the answer, but he was apparently curious, and Corvo couldn’t blame him, “Who with?”

Corvo opened and closed his mouth, not really sure how to answer, or if he even should. After a moment of consideration, he knew that Geoff deserved to know, and could keep the secret, “Okay, I really need to emphasize that this _must_ remain secret.” He began, looking the Captain dead in the eye.

Geoff leaned in, a look of realization hitting him, “You’re not going to tell me… The Empress?”

Corvo only nodded.

Geoff’s mouth practically dropped, “Is Emily…?”

“Yes.”

Geoff leaned back in his chair, processing it all, his expression shifting a little until he barked out a laugh, “Well, Corvo. Better you than me. She seems lovely, but… What a secret to live.”

Corvo shrugged, “It’s not bad. We thought about coming clean when Emily was born, but this way, the politics and news stay out of it. It’s for the best, both for her status, and our relationship.”

“Fair points.” Geoff agreed before he gave a long sigh and started collecting their dishes.

“I can get it.” Corvo offered.

Geoff waved him off, “You did it last time.”

He snorted at that, “That was almost ten years ago.”

“It’s my turn.” He insisted again.

Corvo raised his hands in a silent surrender until Geoff turned the corner for a moment and came back empty handed, “Maid took it from me.” He said when he returned.

“How dare she take your job.” He tried to joke.

Geoff gave a tired chuckle and a yawn as he took his Captain’s coat off the back of his chair and folded it in his arms, “I’d love to chat more, but I had a long trip. You’d be surprised how much I had to walk today. Couldn’t spare any horses.”

“I understand,” Corvo replied, “But, hey, Anton Sokolov comes here a lot, and he’s mentioned electric carriages on rails.”

Geoff scoffed, “Impossible. But, I do like the idea of not walking everywhere, so, I won’t complain if he figures it out.”

“Get some rest.” Corvo said, “And I’m sorry.”

His friend raised an eyebrow, “About what?” When Corvo only gave a knowing look, Geoff nodded, “Right, I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I am happy for you, Corvo. And regardless, I’ve missed you these years, and I’m excited to see and work with you again.”

“Me too.” Corvo agreed, “I won’t keep you away from your bed any longer.”

Geoff smiled, looking a little relieved, “Thanks. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Corvo learned the next day that the reason why Geoff was back at the Tower was because Turnbull was promoted to General of The City Watch, so Geoff was taking his previous position as Dunwall Tower’s organizer. Though Corvo didn’t have as much time to spend with Geoff like he had in the old days, he worked closely with The Captain, and even if he had nothing bad to say about Turnbull, things ran smoother while he and Geoff worked together.

He was equally both Jessamine’s and Emily’s Lord Protector, but Jessamine hated handing their daughter over to nannies, so Corvo often watched over her instead of attending meetings. He took this chance to go to Geoff’s office to oversee some of his plans and schedules, and through it, little Emily took a shine to Geoff.

“Jep!” She would say, unable to pronounce his name correctly.

Geoff didn’t mind her company. In fact, he always wanted to hold her and talk to her. With a little time, he started becoming friends with Jessamine, too. With Geoff knowing the secret, attending some of their dinners, and spending time with them, he was beginning to fit into their little family, much like how an uncle would. 

He had everything here. He came from Serkonos to take in all Dunwall had to offer, and here it was. A career, a loving partner, a daughter, a friend… Dunwall had given him a _life_ , and for eight, short years, everything was perfect.

Then the Rat Sickness came, and it was becoming more serious, some even beginning to call it a plague.

“We mustn’t panic.” Jessamine said calmly.

“This isn’t panicking, your Highness, it’s acting. We can’t take this on ourselves, it’s getting worse.” Hiram Burrows argued.

“I’m not saying that asking the other Isles is a bad idea.” She disclaimed, “I just don’t know if I’m comfortable with Lord Attano being in charge of this assignment.”

Burrows gave a confidant smile as he gestured to him, “Well who else is so trustworthy and loyal?”

Crovo narrowed his eyes in response. He and Burrows never got along, so why talk him up like this?

“But, I-”

“Your Highness, you said you don’t want a panic,” Burrows pointed out, “We can’t have everyone knowing about this journey, because they will panic. We can’t just give this assignment to anyone without rumors spreading.”

Corvo could see in Jessamine’s eyes that she didn't appreciate being interrupted, but she didn’t bring it up. Instead, she sighed in resignation, “You’re right, it’s just… Odd times…”

Burrows looked at her with sympathy, “I will get to the bottom of this, Empress, don’t you worry. I’m sure the other Isles have brilliant minds to help us while we’re in need.”

Corvo rolled his eyes, knowing how fake the reassurance was, “When is my departure, your Highness?” He didn’t like the sound of leaving Dunwall, but someone had to, and it was a responsibility that he was willing to take if Jessamine thought it was the best course of action.

“As soon as possible, I advise.” Burrows answered.

Corvo opened his mouth to give him a _‘I didn’t ask you’_ , but Jessamine stopped him, “Tomorrow night.” She said sadly before turning back to Burrows, “Will that be enough time for you to pick the rest of the staff on the boats?”

“Of course.” Burrows answered swiftly, “The boats will be ready by tomorrow night at the latest.”

And just like that, Corvo was swept away by the ocean winds, running around The Isles begging for aid. They went down south to Karnaca, before making a u-turn and reaching Morley and Tyvia. The only brightside was that Geoff was there to help command the ship, and chat when there was nothing to do. The trip total took well over six months, his birthday even passing. 

Corvo came back from his failed trip to the worst day of his life.

Not ten minutes after arriving home, The Knife of Dunwall, The Wolf of Man, The Heretical Assassin Daud appeared out of thin air, killed his Empress and took his daughter. And Corvo was left standing there, not believing his eyes.

He didn’t say a word as he was yelled at by Hiram Burrows and The High Overseer, nor did he say anything when Geoff escorted him to his cell in Coldridge. In his daze, he couldn’t read the Captain’s expression, but looking back, he looked scared and confused. He begged and pleaded during his interrogations for Burrows to believe in his innocence, but who was he kidding? He was the only one who saw those Whaler uniforms, and that scarred face.

After six months of tourture, The High Overseer and Hiram Burrows let him in on their little secret. They knew he was innocent, they organized it. The only missing piece to their puzzle was a scapegoat, and that’s where Corvo came in.

Then, a chance came, written in a styled handwriting. With the help of strangers, he escaped the prison into the sewers, following the little notes left behind by those who claimed to believe in his innocence. He met the man behind the letters, an old sailor named Samuel who brought him to The Hound Pits.

That was where the real masterminds were, Admiral Havelock, Lord Pendleton, and Overseer Martin. With their help, Corvo could take down Hiram Burrows and his allies, find Emily, and place her on the throne that was rightfully hers. With his new allies, and the Mark of The Outsider, Corvo believed that the stars had finally given him some mercy.

But, there was work to do, and his first target was The High Overseer, Thaddeus Campbell. On his way to Samuel’s boat again, he met Callista, Geoff’s niece. She began to explain that her uncle was a straight arrow, and couldn’t be corrupted like the rest of the City Watch, and he was going to be poisoned for it. She begged him to save her uncle’s life as if she didn’t know who Geoff was to him. Perhaps she didn’t. Regardless of her, Corvo would never forgive himself if he couldn’t save Geoff’s life. He lost Jessamine and Emily, He couldn’t lose his life-long friend too.

After Corvo sabotaged the poison, Campbell resorted to his sword. He lured Geoff down to his personal quarters, and distracted the Captain with a painting he had on his wall. With Geoff’s back turned, Campbell went to strike, but Corvo’s was faster, hitting him with a sleep dart.

Geoff saw Corvo immediately, but his stare was drawn to Campbell’s unconscious body, and obviously he put the pieces together quickly. He walked closer to Corvo, his sword in hand, as he narrowed his gaze at his mask, “By all accounts, I should probably arrest you… But you seem familiar, even with that mask on. This time, I’ll go my way, and you, yours.” The Captain decided. His voice sounded as if he were giving an order, but Corvo could see in his friend’s eyes just how scared he truly was.

_You know me,_ Corvo wanted to say, _I have your back, you just can’t know it yet._

Corvo finished his mission after that, burning the Heretic’s Brand into Campbell’s face, leaving him with his miserable life. He found Emily the next day, and if he wasn’t being so quiet, he may have sobbed tears of joy during their short reunion at The Golden Cat. He then dealt with Pendlton’s older brothers, Waverly Boyle, and Hiram Burrows himself in similar ways as he had with Campbell, twisting information for a political suicide, or allying with oddities to take them out of the picture with their lives still intact.

Just when things were getting better, his ‘loyal allies’ turned on him, poisoning him. Miraculously surviving, he awoke in what used to be The Rudshore Financial District, the Flooded District. This, in Hiram Burrow’s mass grave, was where Daud and his Whalers were hiding.

Though imprisoned by Daud, Corvo escaped, and headed to the assassin’s base. He treated The Whalers as he did with normal Overseers and Watch members, leaving them unconscious. There was one though that he got into a scuffle with, not far from Daud’s office. 

He tried to sleep dart him, but he was immune, or partially, anyway. The Whaler stumbled, taking off his mask to see better in the dizziness the toxin brought him. He was blond and freckled, not even twenty five, Corvo guessed. Probably a street kid desperate for shelter and regular meals. Corvo elbowed the kid in the jaw, making him drop like a sack of bricks. He’d have a bruise later, but he’ll live.

In hindsight, he probably should have caught the boy when he fell, because with a sound of a traversal, Daud was swinging his sword at him.

Corvo _wanted_ this, though. If there was anyone that was worth cutting down, it was Daud, the slayer of an Empress. He fought with everything he had, yet the assassin mocked him, at least, he did until Corvo cut him in his ribs. _Deep_. Then, before he knew it, the assassin was begging for mercy.

Corvo grabbed Daud by his collar and put his blade to the other man’s neck, yet he hesitated, and heard him out. Corvo glared into the assassin’s gray eyes, looking for any sign of lies as the man laid down his regrets and sorrows. His body shook both in anger and self control as Daud demanded that he make his choice.

He shoved the assassin back onto the ground and turned on his heels, not looking back. He slunk back into the sewers, knowing he’d regret his choice, but he couldn’t turn back. He still had Emily to save.

He ended up fighting Havelock in a sword duel. It took some effort, but he disarmed the Admiral, and choked him out, hoping that it hurt. Like Hiram Burrows, he’d later be imprisoned and executed for treason.

The last year dragged on, but everyday since Emily’s coronation whizzed by as everything changed. As Lord Protector, and now Spymaster, Corvo’s work was endless, and there weren’t enough hours in the day. He was behind, gravely so, but there was no way to catch up. Everything was a mess, whether it be the city, or his desk, everything was in shambles. He desperately worked through the days, and overnights too, just to get things done, just to get things organized, but it wasn’t enough. People were still dying faster than he and Emily could pull this together.

Then, by some cosmic alignment, a miracle. A cure to The Rat Plague. The sheer hope that they could still pull this off dropped Corvo to his knees.

Emily held out a vial of the new elixr, looking him dead in the eye, “Fuck Hiram Burrows!”

They were alone in his office, so Corvo allowed himself to laugh at that, harder than he had in years.

Despite the good news and things slowly getting better, the events mere months prior burdened him. Jessamine’s death, Coldridge, torture, the weepers, the rats, the blood and betrayal… It kept him pacing in his room at night, panicking, not knowing what to do with himself. He wished Jessamine, or anyone, were there to help him. Emily wouldn’t hold his panicked state against him, and the sweet girl would comfort him, but he was her father, if he was scared, then she would be too. There was also Samuel, but he didn’t know the sailor too well yet, and even if he did, the old man didn’t come to The Tower all that often.

He needed someone he could trust, someone that knew him, but there was no one.

Corvo stopped his pacing just long enough for a name to pop in his head, then, in the dead of night, he sprinted to his office. He swung open the door and ran to one of his filing cabinets, the one with records on The City Watch. He frantically searched the drawers, throwing folders down to the floor and out of the way until he found the file: _Captain Geoff Curnow of The City Watch._

Turning on a light on his desk, Corvo opened up the folder, hoping to get information on his best friend who had yet to show himself since Emily was placed on the throne. The first page of his file, however, made Corvo’s stomach drop. Stamped on in large, red ink, was the worse news he could receive:

_Geoff Curnow_

_Rank: Captain of The City Watch_

_Nationality: Gristolian_

_Previous Affiliations: None_

_Previous Positions: Away at sea, Dunwall Tower, Eastern Distillery District (Dunwall)_

_Current Location: Northwest Distillery District (Dunwall)_

_Assignment: Purging The Bottle Street Gang_

_Status: MISSING IN ACTION / DECEASED_

A little shine of hope, Geoff wouldn’t be labeled as MIA if anyone knew he was dead, he was just assumed so. But, in times like these, Geoff being dead was a huge possibility that Corvo couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to. Regardless, he was going to find out what happened to his friend, no matter how hard it was, or how long it took.

According to reports, Geoff was last seen at The Abbey on the night The High Overseer was disgraced. He summoned and talked to a couple of Geoff’s men that were there the same night, and both recalled that their Captain wasn’t really acting right, almost paranoid. Understandable since Campbell tried to kill him moments before he and his squad took their leave. 

His men also stated that they went back to their outpost, but there wasn’t any sign of the Captain by morning. Nothing was missing from his quarters, so it wasn’t like he deserted, but there was no sign of a struggle anywhere in the outpost that suggests that he had gotten in a fight. There were no attacks from The Bottle Street Gang that night either, but the men assumed he wandered too far by himself and got ambushed, assumed dead.

But, Corvo knew it wasn’t like Geoff to go scouting by himself, it would have been too dangerous. Perhaps The Whalers kidnapped him? Daud’s members were quiet and sly, and had access to sleep toxins. But why? For ransom? From who? Everyone wanted him dead.

That’s when it hit Corvo. Everyone in any seat of power wanted the straight arrow Captain dead, and he knew it. Of course Geoff deserted with nothing but the clothes on his back, they’d assume him dead, and no one would look for him. If Corvo’s theory was correct, Geoff’s plan was genius.

There was the question of where Geoff would go, so Corvo started his search at The High Overseer’s Office and branched out from there. With the help of his Spynetwork, he looked throughout the northwestern side of the Distillery District, and the neighboring area, Slaughterhouse Row, but found nothing, not even old signs. There was, however, a now worn-down bridge that led to The Old Water Front and Drapers’ Ward, but, again, nothing. So, he backtracked to the Distillery District, shifting south.

Then, He hit the south end of Kaldwin’s Bridge, and there was an old, thin trail of his friend. It wasn’t much, but it was the only lead he had.

The problem was Geoff didn’t want to be found, so sending in his spies or The Watch was a bad idea. Instead then, Corvo went by himself. He didn’t want to leave The Tower, but Geoff deserved to see him in person, and be told he didn’t have to hide. If he was alive, of course.

The possibility of the Captain’s death didn’t last long. After searching through the area from morning to nightfall, he found a small, abandoned house someone was obviously squatting in. The building was only a story tall, but was sealed with boards on the outside of the doors and windows. It was obvious that whoever was inside couldn’t get out, Corvo realized.

Looking for a way in, he Blinked up to the edge of the roof, only to find a small space between the shingles and rafters that lead inside. Squeezing himself through, Corvo landed softly in the kitchen area, which was empty.

_“Urgh._ ” Corvo heard from the other room, followed by some coughs.

His heart in his throat, Corvo stepped lightly, not wanting to draw the other person’s attention. At the living room’s entrance, he peeked around the threshold to see a man standing with his back to him, his posture slouched, warming himself by the fireplace.

The man coughed harshly again. _A weeper._ Corvo thought. Though the cure had been around for a couple of months now, the sickness wasn’t defeated yet, and there were still many it was being spread to, and were infected. Those in the weeping stage were uncommon now, but it seems as though the man’s neighbors locked him in, leaving him to die.

Before Corvo could even begin to feel sympathy for the sick man, something that hung on the back of a chair caught his eye. A Captain’s coat… _No,_ Corvo thought in denial, deciding he wanted to make sure before even thinking about the possibility. So, he crept over to the chair, digging through the left-hand inner chest pocket, and finding the metal I.D. plate all Watchman and soldiers had.

_ID #214517_

_Capt. Geoff Curnow of The City Watch_

In the moment, he couldn’t believe it. Corvo stood, and approached carefully, “Geoff?”

Frightened, Geoff spun around and unsheathed his sword, swinging it clumsily in Corvo’s direction. Corvo moved to dodge, but the strike didn’t even come close. If anything, Geoff hurt himself. In his own weakness, his momentum sent him to the ground, his sword slipping out of his grip as he landed hard.

Corvo kicked the sword away to disarm his friend, “Geoff, please say something.” He begged, knowing weepers couldn’t talk.

“Please!” The Captain cried, huddling himself in the corner by the fireplace, putting his hands up in front of his face in surrender, “I don’t have anything to take!”

Corvo squatted down to the man’s level, “Geoff, it’s me. It’s Corvo.”

Geoff looked up, narrowing his eyebrows. It was obvious that he was sick with The Plague, with his skin paper white, his eyes unfocused and red, and the cold sweats he was obviously in. He wasn’t a weeper yet, but he was maybe a couple days from it, if he made it that far. The sickness usually started with a rash mixed with flu symptoms that turned into massive coughing and vomiting, then a fever would kick in, killing most. But, if the victim made it further, the sickness would spread to the brain, causing delusions and hallucinations, usually causing states of violence and hostility. The rash then would spread to the eyes, causing them to cry blood. Final stages caused the victim to throw up blood, causing fatal internal damage, even with the cure.

Geoff was obviously in the fever phase at least, if he wasn’t having hallucinations yet. If he was, there could be irreversible brain damage regardless of the cure, but Corvo would agree that it was better than being dead.

“Corvo?”

Geoff had broken him out of his thoughts, and Corvo felt himself smile at his friend, “Yeah, it’s me.”

Geoff sighed in relief, “I never thought I’d see you again. What are you doing here?”

His speech was slurred a little, but the Captain was coherent. More at ease, Corvo went to pat his friend’s shoulder.

Geoff recoiled instantly, closing in on himself more, “No! Don’t touch me! I’m sick! I’m very sick!”

The Outsider’s Mark protected him, for the most part, from sickness, and even if he did get sick, there’s a cure now, so Corvo had nothing to be afraid of. Regardless, Geoff was very afraid, and as much as Corvo wanted to comfort him, he stayed where he was, not wanting to corner him more, “It’s okay, Geoff. I can’t get sick. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Geoff only let out a couple hard coughs in response before scratching at his face.

“Try not to scratch, it’ll make the rash worse.” Corvo nagged.

If Geoff heard him, he didn’t listen. Instead he scratched slower, digging his nails into his skin more.

“Geoff, stop!” Corvo exclaimed worriedly, grabbing his friends wrists and pulling his hands away from his face.

Geoff pulled himself out of Corvo’s grip, pressing himself against the wall, “No! Don’t touch me!” He cried.

Covo leveled his voice, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” It was too late for that though, Geoff had broken skin, and blood was trailing on his face from just under his eyes down his cheeks. Considering how heavy it was, he had reopened a small wound by scratching in the same place too much. Corvo continued, trying to reason with him, “If you’re not careful, the rash will spread to your eyes, and you’ll weep.”

Despite Corvo’s efforts, Geoff didn’t calm down, “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

Corvo could understand the paranoia, he knew it all too well. Betrayal was brutal, and he was on the receiving end of it twice. He felt like he couldn’t trust anyone, and that those who were kind to him were just using him like Burrows or Havelock had. That they’d throw him away after they were done. It was irrational, but for someone who had hid away after an attempt on his life, the root of Geoff’s paranoia was justified.

But, Geoff could trust him, Corvo just had to show him that, “There are reports that you went MIA, so I went looking for you.”

Geoff coughed, his body racking, “Why? Did Campbell send you? Did _Burrows_ send you?” He accused, growing more defensive.

“Because you’re my friend Geoff. I’ve lost so much already, and I can’t lose you too.” Corvo started sincerely, but when Geoff didn’t look convinced, he continued, “Geoff, I know you’re sick, but look at me. You know me. I’m Corvo, and I’ve known you my whole career, and most of my life. I’m here because I missed you. I missed having someone I can trust. I looked for you so I can bring you home.”

Geoff’s expression softened, looking mournful, “I know. And I know how hard hearing this might be. But, you know I’m sick. I can’t go home.” Corvo went to tell him the good news about the cure, but he was interrupted. His friend’s tone shifted a little, sounding more hopeful, “But you’re right, I do know you, you’ve always been good to me, and you still will be, right?”

Not knowing where Geoff was going with this, he agreed, “Yes.”

The look on his friend's face was sad again, sympathy filling his eyes, “I hate to give you this burden. I know first-hand how terrible it is. But I don’t want to bleed from the eyes, or throw up my guts.”

“No!” Corvo interrupted immediately, knowing exactly where that was going. Geoff was going to ask for a mercy kill, and maybe if there wasn’t a cure, he would have given it to him. Corvo himself would rather a bullet between the eyes than die of The Plague. He continued, “No, Geoff. I can’t do that to you, I don’t have to. There’s a cure now.”

“What?”

Corvo spoke optimistically as he finally gave the good news, “Geoff, Hiram Burrows is in prison, Emily has ascended the throne, and she ordered Anton Sokolov and Piero Joplin to work on a cure and they found it. You can go home. This isn’t the end of the road.”

Geoff seemed to consider him and his words for a long moment, his red eyes analyzing him until his shoulders slouched, looking disappointed, “Yeah I thought this was too good to be true.”

Confused, Corvo narrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

Geoff scoffed, closing in on himself more, “You’re alive? Emily’s on the throne? A cure? Please.”

“It’s true!” Corvo insisted.

Geoff was shaking more now, his cold sweat sending him into shivers. He didn’t seem to notice it though, he just crossed his arms, trying to warm himself, “Well, Corvo, at least you’re a pleasant illusion, for now at least.”

He knew by how his friend was acting that the fever was making him more delusional than Corvo thought at the beginning of their conversation, but now he knew that Geoff had been hallucinating, too. And with the rash creeping up to his eyes, Geoff was closer to going mad and weeping than Corvo initially thought. This was bad. He had to reason with his friend and get him to The Tower as soon as possible. “Okay, what if I am a hallucination?” Corvo started sarcastically, “What’s the worst that can happen if you follow me to Dunwall Tower? You get treated by The Royal Physician?”

Geoff suddenly stood up, stumbling in his place. Corvo got up to catch him, but his hand was slapped away by the Captain as he started yelling, “I can lose the last bit of sanity I have left!”

Corvo took a collective breath, taken aback by the sudden mood swing, “Geoff, you need to listen-”

But his friend was done listening, it seemed. Geoff was ranting now, his arms waving erratically, “You don’t know me! I’ve seen things, Corvo! I’ve seen gang members on drugs jump out of third-story windows because they thought they could fly and end up killing themselves! I’m not going into the streets with you, only to be eaten by rats!”

Corvo took a step back as his friend got more aggressive, realizing he didn’t bring his crossbow. But, in fairness, this particular situation didn’t cross his mind. He did, however, reach into his bolt pack on his belt, thankful that Geoff didn’t notice as he did, “Geoff, I know you’re sick. I just want to help. I can protect you as we travel. Protecting is my job.”

He held his ground as Geoff stepped forward, blood still running down his face, “What is your protection worth, _Corvo?_ Why is The Empress Dead, _Corvo?_ ”

The cruelty of Geoff’s words made Corvo snap, and in a flash of motion, he ripped out a sleep dart from his belt, grabbed his friend by the wrist and slammed it into his arm. Geoff immediately fell down to his knees, jerking the bolt out of his skin, but Corvo knew how fast the tranquilizer was injected, and how quick it acted.

Corvo was ashamed that he didn’t feel bad at first, livid at his friend’s words, but his heart broke when Geoff looked up at him in shock, “Poison? How could you?” He then fell forward, catching himself on his hands at first before laying down. He tried to move as a desperate attempt to keep a hold on his consciousness, but as the sleep toxin took it’s full effect, he relaxed.

Corvo knelt down to Geoff, pushing him onto his back. He then grabbed a cloth from his own coat, and wiped some of the blood off his friend’s face. It hurt to see his friend this way. Geoff’s words regarding Jessamine’s death hit hard, but Corvo knew for a fact that the fever had made him delusional, and if he’d known that Corvo wasn’t a hallucination, he wouldn’t have said those things. Geoff was a kind and bright man, trying his best in a time of tyranny, and was punished for it.

“You don’t deserve this.” He whispered, his breath hitching as he lost his composure a bit, “I’m so sorry.”

Without wasting any more time, Corvo picked up his friend and took him to Dunwall Tower to be treated by Sokolov. The Royal Physician told him not to worry, for he had cured worse, but that didn’t stop Corvo from losing sleep. It didn’t help that he wasn’t allowed to see Geoff until Sokolov was sure that his case wasn’t contagious anymore, which would be about a week.

Sokolov had given him updates daily, all good news. Most notably, the rash had started dissipating, and the hallucinations had stopped completely by his second day of recovery. Nine days in, however, Covo went into Sokolov’s office, and the Doctor looked as if he had bad news.

“So I don’t want you to panic.” He started.

Corvo rolled his eyes, why must the universe forbid that he, or his loved ones receive a break for once? “What is it?”

“The good news is that Captain Curnow is more alert and aware, but because of that, he’s stopped cooperating with me and my nurses.” Sokolov reported.

Corvo tilted his head, “That’s odd. He’s usually a good patient. I mean, he gets restless sometimes, and a nurse will lecture him not to push himself, but you mean he’s refusing treatment?”

Sokolov nodded, “He refuses anything we try to give him, whether it be food or his curing medication,” He emphasized, “The only thing he takes is water. Sometimes.”

Corvo began to pace a bit, “This isn’t like him. Do you know why? Has he told you?”

“He barely speaks to me anymore.” The Doctor replied, “But the disease had gotten to his brain, which often causes brain damage. This damage can manifest in a couple of ways, most commonly, though, are memory issues, which he expressed beforehand.”

“How bad?” Corvo asked, wondering silently why this was the first time he was hearing this.

“Considering other cases,” He answered thoughtfully, “His memory problems are rather minor. He knows his name, his rank, and where he is. He’s asked about his niece before- Is she here, by the way?”

Corvo shook his head, “I sent her a letter the night I found him, but the new mail system isn’t that great. I’ll summon her here tomorrow morning, she’ll get a proper escort that way.”

Sokolov nodded in approval before continuing, “With him and a few other cases that have affected the memory, a lot of long term information is intact, but recent events are often blurred, or forgotten entirely. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was missing the last couple of years.”

Corvo ran a hand through his hair, “What are you going to do? If he continues to refuse the medicine, he’ll relapse, right?”

“He’s already started,” He said sadly, “The rash is getting worse again, and there is evidence of a mild fever”

_“And what are you going to do about it?”_ Corvo snapped.

“Regardless of relapse, he’s not contagious anymore. I was considering that you talk to him. He trusts you, maybe you can get him to trust us.” Sokolov replied.

Not a bad idea, Corvo considered, but Geoff didn’t trust him at all the last time they spoke. But, perhaps that had changed, since his hallucinations had stopped and he was more aware of his surroundings. So, he agreed to that, deciding that he’d try to get the Captain to eat too. He went down into the kitchens and cooked some basic chicken soup, something that would be light and easy on Geoff’s stomach.

Corvo then returned to the medical area, and found Geoff’s room. With a collective sigh, he hoped, _prayed_ that this would go well. When he entered the room, he found Geoff curled up on his side. He faced the door, but seemed to be asleep, so Corvo shook him lightly, “Geoff?”

Geoff flinched awake, looking up at him for a moment until he noticed the bowl, “I’m not hungry.”

Geoff looked a lot better than last week, Corvo noted. His eyes were focused, and missing the redness that they had. His skin also had more color to it, though his face was a bit flushed from the fever, and there was pink scar tissue running down his face, right where he had been scratching himself. It was strange, though, he looked so weary, almost scared. Corvo felt his stomach drop, knowing that despite looking better, his friend was far from being himself.

“You need to eat. It’ll make you feel better.” He said, but when Geoff only curled up more in reply, Corvo continued, “It’s okay, though. It needs to cool off anyway.” 

Geoff watched him carefully as Corvo set the bowl of soup on the table and sat down in the chair by his bed. It was then when he realized the look in his friend’s eye. Geoff didn’t recognize him. “You know who I am, right?” He asked, trying his best to cover his fear.

Geoff's face twisted up a bit, propping himself up on his elbow, “...Corvo?”

Corvo let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “Yeah, Geoff. It’s me.”

“You don’t look well,” Geoff said, his eyebrows lifted in concern, “You’re so thin.”

“I’m still trying to gain the weight I lost in Coldridge.” He explained. He was gaining weight back, but slower than he wished, it didn’t help that he tended not to eat when stressed.

“Coldridge?” He echoed, deep in thought, “Right. Why were you there?”

Corvo hesitated, not wanting to drop this bomb, but jogging the man’s memory might ground him enough to accept treatment. So, with a mournful sigh, Corvo answered, “I was framed for The Empress' death.”

_“Jessamine.”_ Geoff realized, laying back down on the bed and covering his eyes. “I remember her laying there…”

“Hiram Burrows hired an assassin to kill her and framed me,” Corvo said, running through a short version of his story, “I was locked in Coldridge prison for months before breaking out and, well, toppling the government, long story short. But, that was a couple of months ago. Emily is on the throne, and there’s a cure to The Plague.”

“No, that can’t be right. I was- I was- I was… Hiding.” He said in realization, “If I had known- Void, you and Emily needed loyalty and-”

“Someone trapped you inside a small house, Geoff. I don’t think you were getting any updates.” Corvo said, “Don’t blame yourself.”

Geoff was quiet for a long moment, before he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, “I don’t remember how I got in there. Or where that place was. I… Don’t know where my post was, or who my squad was…”

Corvo shrugged, “That’s okay. You’re here and safe now, that’s what matters. The problem is, you’re currently recovering from The Plague, and have been refusing medicine.”

His friend didn’t hear that though, seemingly too deep in thought, “I remember Campbell. I was hiding from him. I remember avoiding Overseers. I was running, and they were hunting me.”

“Do you remember the Masked Felon saving you at The Abbey?” Corvo asked.

Geoff pulled his eyebrows together, “How do you…” Then it hit him, and he smiled, “I really can always count on you, huh?”

“Of course, old friend,” Corvo said easily, reaching for the soup again, “Now sit up before this gets too cold.”

But Geoff didn’t do what he was told, instead, he only got that weary look on his face again.

Corvo sighed, “Geoff,” He started sympathetically, “I’m sorry for what happened to you. Campbell was an asshole, but I’m sure you didn’t expect him to turn on you like that. I’m sure that you felt sick, and tried to ask locals for help only for them to lock you up like a criminal and leave you for dead. I’m sure you won’t ever be completely the same because of how sick you got, but you know you can trust me.”

Geoff seemed to think over Corvo’s words for a moment before sitting up and taking the bowl, “I’m sorry.”

Corvo shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I haven’t been trusting others as much as I should either. I understand.”

Those words didn’t seem to comfort the Captain much, but the man didn’t talk lowly about himself anymore, deciding to taste his soup. After a couple of bites, Geoff smiled nostalgically, his eyes lighting up like they used to, “It’s a Morleyan recipe.”

“Did you really think I didn’t write some of those down?” Corvo teased.

Geoff chuckled at that before falling silent. He began taking small bites of the soup again, and Corvo let him eat. He had finished half the bowl before setting it down on the nightstand. That was alright for now, Corvo supposed, those sick with Plague often had small appetites, and even Sokolov suggested that frequent, small meals were the best way to get food in his patients. 

Geoff wiped his lips with a napkin before he spoke thoughtfully, “I know you, Corvo. I know I can trust you.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that. You’re beginning to sound like yourself again.” Corvo complimented before getting to a more pressing matter, “But, we need to talk about how you aren’t letting Sokolov and his nurses help you.”

“I don’t know them!” He said, growing frantic, “What if they’re working with Campbell?”

“Geoff, Campbell’s dead.” Corvo said bluntly, hoping that it would relieve his friend, “I saw him in the Flooded District, he died as a weeper.”

Geoff looked a little conflicted at that news, so as usual, he tried to change the subject in an effort to repress himself, “What were you doing in the Flooded District?”

By the Void, that almost worked. Corvo almost went on that tangent, but caught himself, “I was- It was in the mist of toppling the government, but that’s not my point, Geoff. If you keep refusing the medicine, you’ll relapse and…” He ended up sugarcoating the last part, “Get worse.”

“Corvo… I don’t think-”

“What if I cook your meals?” Corvo offered, trying to find a midground, “I can come by often enough for that, and I can give you the medicine too.”

Geoff laid back down on his bed, considering the offer, “I suppose that would be okay. I know I can trust you.” He repeated.

Corvo nodded, relieved that they had a plan, “Sounds like a deal, I’ll see what your medicine schedule is, until then, try to sleep the fever off.”

Geoff rolled on his side to face him, “You staying here?”

Emily was in lessons right now, and would be for a couple of hours. That, specifically, Corvo didn’t have to attend, so for the moment, he was free, “Yeah, Geoff. I’ll wake you so you can get some medicine, and finish your soup.”

Geoff’s eyes were already closed, “Sounds good,” He said sleepily, “Thank you, Corvo. I love you.”

His friend was sick and hurt, but Corvo knew Geoff would be grounded sooner rather than later with himself, Emily and Callista being able to visit and nurse him. Pieces of his memory would never be recovered, but the light in his eyes and bright smile would return. His passion for The City Watch would guide his recovery, and Emily Kaldwin I would promote him to General, and he’d use his new position to distribute the Cure Elixir to help other victims with The Plague.

Geoff was going to be okay, and their friendship truly was going to be life-long.

Corvo smiled, “I love you too, Geoff.”


End file.
